He guided her to the couch and gently lowered her onto it, then joined her, shifting her so her back was pressed against him. Both of them lay on their sides, bodies aligned closely on the cushions.
As she felt the hardness of his manhood against her back, Zara’s arousal returned, and she groaned in contentment, biting her lip while anticipating his entrance once more.
"I am going in again," she heard him whisper behind her. She nodded, giggling softly, her excitement mounting with every second. A kiss behind her ear sent a shiver down her spine, making her moan and drop her hand into his hair like a puppy clutching eagerly at a sweet little bone.
Adjusting her position, Silas lifted her waist slightly to align with his and then eased himself inside her, moving slowly, almost like he was allowing her to adjust to his hardness.
"Ohhh!!" Zara moaned loudly as his thick, hard length filled her, hitting her deepest spot with precision. Surprisingly, she hadn’t tried this position before, but it exceeded all expectations. She could feel every inch of him pressing into the corners of her core, and it made her feel more alive than ever.
He started moving, slowly at first, but quickened the pace once he realized the slow rhythm wasn’t quite doing it for her. Silas thrust into her with force and depth, deliberately hitting every sensitive place inside her.
"Ahh! Yes! Ohh!! Nooo!!" Zara cried out, unable to hold back her moans as the intensity of his thrusts escalated. She hated to admit it, but he was far better than any of her exes. He didn’t treat it like a quick hookup, he was deliberate, attentive, and it both frustrated and thrilled her. What annoyed her was that he didn’t see her as just someone to sleep with when the mood struck. She wanted to remain emotionally unavailable, but if he fell for her, she wouldn’t know how to handle it. Luckily, he didn’t seem like someone who could fall in love easily... Hopefully.
"Do you speed?" He asked, grinning while keeping his grip on her waist firm as he drove deeper.
"Ye...ahhh!!" She tried to answer, but a jolt of pleasure overwhelmed her, cutting her off mid-answer.
Sliding one hand up to her chest, he began unbuttoning her top, one button at a time, until he reached the last one, when something in her snapped to awareness.
Before he could reach for her bra hook, she opened her mouth and said firmly, "Stop!" Freezing him in place, his hardness still deep inside her.
"Why?" He asked, puzzled. He didn’t understand why she always stopped him from touching her breasts. Most women enjoyed being fondled or kissed there, but she avoided it like it was something off-limits. The last time, he hadn’t thought much of it, assuming it would be a one-time thing. But now that they were close again, it was clear that she didn’t want to be touched there at all.
"You can fuck me without touching my breasts," she responded, her tone no longer soft. The warmth in her voice had vanished, replaced by something cold, deep, and perhaps even a little mysterious.
"I am not one of those men in clubs that you pay. I prefer to touch the woman I am intimate with," he replied, prompting her to scoff.
"Intimate? What do you think this is? A romantic love story between you and your brother’s wife’s best friend?" She snapped, making him frown, visibly irritated by her remark.
"I don’t see it that way," he said calmly. "I haven’t been with many women, but even if I had, I would still respect every part of their body when I am in bed with them."
She let out a mocking chuckle. "You are still such a naive little boy. I am only using you to satisfy my urges. I don’t care whether you respect my body or not. Just do what you are told."
"I already said I am not one of those men you pay in clubs," he muttered angrily. Then, without another word, he pulled out of her, left the couch, and walked away.
Zara lay back in disbelief, watching him leave with an amused smile playing on her lips. She had always suspected he was too perfect to be true. Just when she thought she had found the perfect no-strings-attached hookup, it turned out he was struggling with the concept. It might have been easier if he were simply inexperienced, at least then, she could teach him how to have sex without developing emotional attachments.
Shaking her head, she glanced around for something to cover herself and noticed a neatly folded blanket at the head of the couch. She grabbed it, wrapped it around her waist, and started toward the door, only to stop when she heard a knock.
"Who is it?" She asked, approaching the door, forgetting entirely that she wasn’t dressed appropriately to be seen.
"It’s me," came a soft, feminine voice from the other side.
Opening the door, she began, "Who is ’me’?" But didn’t get the chance to finish before the stranger pushed past her and walked further into the room without invitation.
Zara’s mouth hung open in shock as she watched the woman barge in. Her anger surged back. It felt like everyone was testing her patience, and though she had tried to stay calm, they just kept pushing. Even God could bear witness to that today.
"Silas!" The new lady called out, her eyes scanning the room urgently. When there was no reply, she turned and walked back toward Zara, pouting as she asked in a sharp, disrespectful tone, "Where is he?" Staring down at the towel wrapped around Zara’s waist in a judgeful manner.
Zara, unwilling to interfere in Silas’s business, turned on her heel to leave. But before she could take a step, she was yanked backward by her hair, dragged back into the room, and that’s when all hell broke loose.
"I said, where is he? Are you deaf? You bitchy whore!" The lady screamed.
With a sinister grin, Zara spun around, twisting the new lady’s hand in the process. Wasting no time, she grabbed her by the hair with both hands and began yanking her back and forth violently, laughing wickedly as she did so.